#sometimes I just get so very tired of seeing [redacted] especially when people start talking about it in posts that aren't about it

[damatris]

Sometimes I just really, really want to bitch about [redacted] but can't say anything to anyone because I'm highly aware how mean it'd sound despite me not meaning it that way.

[lcnelyinthesky]

IF HAIKYUU!! WAS A TRACK ANIME

karasuno edition

a/n: this is my first time posting any of my headcanons, and i think about xctf!haikyuu constantly,,, it lives in my head rent free. i felt it needed to be shown to the world, but no one is really as into running as i am. enjoy!

notes: xc is cross country, a pr is a personal record, and steeplechase is the track event where the runner steps on a platfrom every 400ish meters into water. 

other schools will be up next if the people like this one (steeplechase akaashi and pole vaulter kuroo run my life,,, also high jump iwa is *chefs kiss*)

sawamura daichi

- thrower on the track team (shot put), does xc

- 5k pr: 17:23

- all around type of guy. runs to be with his friends, but prefers throwing far more

- very passionate about everyone doing their lsd (long slow distance) runs. he calls people to make sure they did them every week. the anger this man feels when they tell him no,,, pure anguish

- once tripped on a root in his first year and is now incredibly cautious of his feet

- sort of a dark horse on the karasuno team, he’s good but no one knows

sugawara koushi

- sprinter in the spring (55, 100), does xc

- 5k pr: 18:17

- does arm workouts with daichi and asahi during xc season, has no reason to

- always complains about hills. i don’t know why but i KNOW this man hates hill days. he puts on a fake smile but whispers “i’m gonna [redacted]” in daichi’s ear right before they start. looks so tired.

- has been seen slapping people’s asses during practice, especially the second years. 

- is the gay with the homies stereotype

azumane asahi

- thrower in the spring (y’all already know mans is BEEFY), does xc to be with his friends

- 5k pr: 18:34

- is frequently seen singing along to blondie during practice

- hates lsd runs so so much. noya made him do one once and when they hit mile ten he was about to fight anyone

- arm workouts with the third years are daichi and asahi minding their own business getting things done and suga on the floor on his phone giving them pop culture updates. tell me im wrong do it

nishinoya yuu

- runs the 400 almost exclusively in the spring, does xc to get out his energy

- 5k pr: 16:02

- frequently goes lost on the trails with tanaka, but they always manage to get back before 5pm,,, also he trips a lot

- once he rolled down a hill and has come to a point of saying “rolling thunder” whenever he trips in practice and during a race

tanaka ryunosuke

- also runs the 400 (and does the 400 hurdles,, he got hops) and does xc, i can just imagine those balls of energy being able to sprint for a really long time

- 5k pr: 16:03

- is very annoyed that at the end of the season he couldn’t beat noya

- refuses to wear anything extra under his uniform because he doesn’t want to deprive kiyoko of the view of his thighs

- shaved his legs once on a dare from noya. is still convinced it hasn’t regrown all the way (it has)

- tananoya don’t listen to music when they run they just talk about anything and it helps their stamina

ennoshita chikara, kinoshita hisashi, narita kazuhito

- 1600 in track, run of the mill distance runner ig,,, nothing spectacular. they do it all together. sometimes dabble in the 400 or the 3200, but they prefer the mile

- 5k pr: 19:54, 20:01, 19:57

- frequently seen jamming to mumble rap,,, they like when they can match their pace with the beat of a song

kageyama tobio

- STEEPLECHASE!!! he’s one of my steeple boys <3, does the 800 occasionally too to beat oikawa, also runs xc of c

- 5k pr: 15:59

- chasing hinata at practice to little landmarks for no reason and waiting for ukai to tell them to slow down

- listens to podcasts when he runs because he likes the noise,, but he gets really lost really fast and just uses it as background to his dumbass thoughts like “my shoes are looser than usual” and “what size spikes are in mine right now” and “did my mom wash my leggings”

- mans runs in leggings thats canon and he sURE DOES at meets (only when its cold,, when its fine he lets those thighs breathe) like it looks so bad but he’s comfy so ok ig

hinata shoyo

- allllll the long distance events, 1600, 3200, 5k during track season too

- 5k pr: 15:51

- seen running his cool down at the same speed he did the whole race because he can’t quite stop for some reason

- runs to like heavy metal and like screamo because hes convinced it makes him faster when actually he just gets scared and it makes his heart race,, seems to be working though

- he wears a shirt under his uniform tank top and its always some gross clashing color,, says his mom makes him wear it to keep warm

- actually does his lsd runs,, every day. but its super long and barely slow he just cannot stop going

tsukishima kei

- xc mostly, says track is too much work but ends up running hurdles every year, despite all of his protest

- 5k pr: 16:20

- listens to yamaguchi’s music when they run together, and they typically run together. seen slowing down to match yamaguchi’s pace

- shaves his legs for track/xc because he’s a firm believer in how it aids in his aerodynamics. kuroo and bokuto do it too,,, its a group thing. 

- wears shorts under the uniform shorts because he doesn’t want anyone seeing his massiv- wears a shirt too he likes being covered

yamaguchi tadashi

- runs the 400, 800, 1600, and did a 3200 once because he’s not spectacular at anything and wants to find his niche,, solid with xc doe

- 5k pr: 17:52

- seen running around his general home area to get better because he wants tsukki to push himself <33

- he doesn’t wear anything extra under the tiny uniform because he’s more insecure about other peoples opinions than his body :(( poor baby

[ayellowcurtain]

Prompt: maybe Lucas going to one of these urbex parties (invited by Eliott of course) and someone there thinking they have an open relationship because of the [redacted] with Lola, he hits on Lucas and Eliott founds out is not funny being on the other side of things.

Eliott at the urbex party with Mayas Gang (+Lola) while Lucas went to a party with the boy squad and they bump into each other in the roads late at night and Eliott does the typical seeing Lucas noice and running over to him to kiss him and Jo is just like "biggest Elu shipper in the world"?

Eliott had finally created the courage to invited Lucas and the boys to an urbex party. It’s his two worlds colliding in one public place and so he can’t help but feel a little insecure. Especially of Lucas’ reaction since it took Eliott months to actually invite him to come to one of his favorite places to party.

Lucas went out before him, telling him that he was going to Yann’s first. He didn’t ask, didn’t warn, just told Eliott where he was going while Eliott was still taking a shower.

He left their bathroom to find an empty and quiet flat to himself. Eliott would be lying if he said it didn’t sting. The feeling of being left behind when Lucas could very well invite him to go to Yann’s too, but he didn’t.

They text each other and Lucas will meet him there with the boys so Eliott goes alone to the urbex place of choice. He’s done this so many times by now, but tonight feels weird, harder.

He tries to ease his worries as he gets to the party, meeting the Lamifex right away and they’re a good way to keep himself busy, with their loud voices, talking over each other, always sort of disagreeing in a loving way.

If Eliott could draw them, they would all be some type of pack of wild puppies. These days he’s only been able to draw a raccoon and a hedgehog, nothing else.

Jo drags him to go paint something outside and everyone else follows, watching them closely. Lola and Maya are a little further away, clearly talking about something private, but Eliott doesn’t care. He’s happy they’re finally talking, but he doesn’t care enough to risk losing Lucas so he keeps his distance for now.

But suddenly, everyone goes quiet and Eliott frowns, looking over his shoulder only to be starstruck like the others. Lucas and the boys are there, walking upstairs like they’re some sort of a rock band. Eliott’s world starts moving so slowly, in high definition as he watches Lucas mess up his hair, finally finding Eliott close to the ground, crouching down to pain the wall in front of him.

Nobody else except for Lola knows Lucas and the boys and they don’t have the best experiences with each other, so Eliott quickly gets up, suddenly feeling so nervous, like this is his first time talking to Lucas.

“Hi...” Lucas says very carefully and to everyone, clearly not wanting to have to say hi privately to everyone, to Lola.

Everyone is still kind of looking around each other, blushing a little and Eliott can’t believe his boyfriend and all his friends are creating this shock with the Lamifex.

“This is Lucas...my boyfriend.” Eliott finally manages to recover himself enough to use his words to form a sentence, standing closer to Lucas, leaving an uncertain kiss on his lips.

“I thought you two were in an open relationship, because of Lo-” Sekou says with his usual matter-of-fact kind of way and Eliott panics, sees how Lucas clenches his jaw and just looks down, but thankfully Max changes the subject, giving Lucas and the boys all their names. They all move on from that phrase quickly and Eliott stands by Lucas’ side, hearing The Gang getting to know Lamifex.

Eliott wants to talk, to ask if Lucas is okay, why he left the house like that, but not in front of everyone. For right now, he’s just happy they’re in the same place for once.

Jo keeps staring at him and Lucas until she can’t help herself, stepping closer, stopping right in front of them “You guys are so cute! You look so good together...” 

Lucas is caught by surprise, frowning but he laughs shyly and Eliott smiles, feeling proud for some reason. 

“We brought some beer, if you guys want!” Yann says and the Lamifex is more than excited about it, pulling Yann - literally by his arm - to show where they can go to sit and drink for a little bit.

Lucas follows them and Eliott follows him, biting the inside of his lip to keep his words to himself.

The night goes well, still with a hint of awkwardness, but mostly is ignored. Lola ignores Lucas, Lucas ignores Lola and they all get along way too well even. Baz and Arthur try to learn with Jo how she dances and Lucas watches them, laughing and teasing his friends with Yann, close to Eliott, but not really acknologing him.

Eliott notices how a guy approaches them, sitting where Baz was, right next to Lucas, trying to create a conversation about the dance party happening in front of them. He and Lucas start talking excitedly about Lucas’ friends and their terrible dancing skills. Sekou joins them and Eliott reminds of what he said before. The guy is clearly interested in Lucas, not even trying to hide it and Sekou seems to know him.

“Hi...” Eliott cuts their conversation short, raising his arm in front of Lucas. Sekou’s friend is a little confused, looking at Sekou and back to Eliott, shaking his hand.

“Hi...?”

“I’m Eliott? Lucas’ boyfriend.” Eliott raises his eyebrows and nods his head towards Lucas like it’s not obvious they’re talking about him.

“Oh...Hm, I’m Leo.” He finally shakes Eliott’s hand, clearly uncomfortable for getting caught hitting on someone that’s in a relationship.

Jo suddenly grabs Lucas’ hand and he and Yann are gone to the dance floor with the others. Eliott watches and Sekou comes to sit in between him and Leo.

-

At some point, Eliott lost sight of Lucas and the boys. He bites his nails, drinking his beer slowly, it’s even getting warm and disgusting. Maya comes to join him and Eliott smiles at her, shoving his hand inside his pocket.

“Hey, you.” She bumps her arm against his and he laughs.

“Hi! How are you?” He raises his eyebrows and nods his head, Lola is nowhere to be seen.

“I’m good, having fun. Trying to keep Max and Jo alive. You?” Eliott smiles at her just because Maya doesn’t deserve to be in the receiving end of his annoyance, but he looks down, not really caring to completely hide his sudden bad mood.

“Good too! Kind of tired though...”

Maya hums and Eliott looks at her again, knowing that there’s a lot more inside her head than just a word. “It’s still early, but yeah, you’re always the first one to leave.”

She teases and Eliott sighs in defeat. She’s not wrong. Usually he always get the sudden need to be with Lucas and so he’s always the first one to rush back home.

“And Lola?” He asks and Maya holds his stare, nodding her head.

“Went on a walk with Max. Probably to smoke. A normal cigar.” Eliott bite the inside of his cheek and nods his head like Maya does.

“Better than weed, I guess.”

Maya shrugs, probably agreeing with him. It’s a long process, Lola is a lot better, but Maya probably thinks it would be best for her to stop smoking completely. She’s not wrong, again, but she understands this process is not a quick one so Lola needs more time and maybe to grow up a little more. Maya is a lot more extreme than Eliott is, a lot stronger too.

Their conversation is interrupted when Eliott finally finds Lucas again. Coming back inside with Yann and Arthur.

“I gotta go.” He says to Maya, but doesn’t bother to say a proper goodbye.

Eliott rushes to Lucas like he’s the air he needs, crashing into him with a quick kiss, not caring Lucas is caught by surprise.

“Can we go home?” He asks and Lucas looks around at the boys, like he doesn’t want to leave with Eliott, but his emotions - his care for Eliott or his feelings for him - are louder than his pride.

“Okay...”

Lucas says goodbye to Yann and Arthur and Eliott follows him. Yann hugs him a little tighter and longer than normal and Eliott feels a little ashamed, not meeting Yann’s eyes before leaving with Lucas.

They walk through the empty streets with a heavy, full of unsaid word silence between them. Eliott breaths in to gather some courage and he holds Lucas’ jacket by his elbow, making him stop and turn to look at him.

“I’m sorry...”

“Huh?”

“For what I did today...and with the movie.”

Lucas digests his quick explanation, opens his mouth and wets his lips with his tongue before explaining. “I was just talking to him...”

He shrugs and Eliott puts all his weight on his tiptoes, controlling his urge to touch Lucas.

“I know. I know and I was just...jealous.” Before the awkward silence becomes unbearable again, Eliott repeats the words that kept dancing around his head all night long. “I can’t lose you, Lucas.”

Lucas doesn’t answer, just looks down and Eliott sighs, coming closer, holding his face gently, but not asking for anything, just using Lucas’ presence to calm them both down a little bit.

When a second goes by, Eliott gently moves Lucas to look up at him. He’s so beautiful, even when he’s broken.

“I like you. I like us. I like being around you, hearing your crazy stories, watching you with your friends, seeing how much you care for them. I like your personality, how brave you are, how fearless and reckless you can be, how much love you want to give, I like that you’re adventurous, I like that you give people so many chances and sometimes you don’t give them not even two, sometimes you give all of yourself and sometimes you don’t even bother. I like who you are, all of it, how much you care...about me. I don’t just love you, you know? I don’t just love you because you’re with me. I just genuely love who you are.”

Lucas quivers under his touch as he exhales and whispers. “Stop...”

“You don’t even know. I could go on for days.” Eliott huffs and draws an invisible line with the tip of his nose along Lucas’.

“You don’t have to.” Lucas quietly shake his head. “But I told you how I wasn’t that perfect person you thought I was. You were warned since the beggining.” He teases like he always does when he’s trying to lighten the mood and keep himself from crying.  

“Lucas...” Eliott laughs, his eyes following his thumbs caressing Lucas’ cheeks. “I just told you: I like everything, all of it. You deserve all the love and I wanna be the person that gives it to you.” Eliott says like a confession, even though he thought Lucas already knew about all of this, it still feels a lot telling him with actual words. Eliott has to meet Lucas’ eyes to make sure he understands.

“Yeah, but you deserve better. And I’m sorry for being such a fucking asshole. I can’t stop myself sometimes.”

Eliott kisses him to stop Lucas from thinking so little of himself again, thinking he was the only one in the wrong, like he’s only made of bad bones when that’s so far from the truth. “I don’t want you to. I don’t want us to live our life holding back from each other anymore.”

Lucas nods his head, whispering. “We can try.”

“Yes, we can.”

Lucas looks down again, resting his forehead against Eliott’s chest and he lets him, kissing the top of his head.

“I like you too. So very much, you’ll never be able to fully understand.” Lucas confesses and Eliott smiles against his hair.

“Try me. Every day.”

Lucas puts his arms around Eliott and he can feel Lucas’ hands gabbring the back of his jacket so tightly.

[tylerwritez]

Tuesday, june 22 2021

I've noticed I'm getting "the shiverys" or "the twitchy" a lot today. Like every time I FEEL something I take a moment to violently tic.... every time I think about certain things I tic.... good things, bad things, things from an hour ago and things from years ago. Tic, tic, tic.

Also, I have... some stuff to explain. Its really no big deal, but you know me: I'll freak out about it anyway. Basically I dissed my friend (rightfully so) around the time that we had just met cos they did something that threw me off.

He saw it in my phone... NOW. it's not RELEVANT anymore and I've since redacted that criticism...and now I gotta explain it to him anwyays. Oh well. I'm good at this stuff. I can get myself outta any situation. I dont even know why I'm talking like this tho... it's not a "Situation" it's just smthn I gotta explain rq.

Oh, today's song recommendation is Spirit Crusher by Death. I'm a huge Death fan...

Also! I gotta study... for my replacement exam. How stressful. Its about photosynthesis, but like, it's not simple. We went DEEP inside those fucking leaves.

One sec, lemme hook up my IV tube

Not an ACTUAL IV tube... just my headphones. But since I'm so #emo, it might as well be a fucking IV tube with the way that I cant live without it.

Its 3:08 and I'm walking home now. I was upset last night but me and Star have made up now lol... it was thAt easy. I'm so defective, making shit hard when it doesnt need to be.

It's so hot out damn. Idk. I had school today, so I had Bio class... I ACTUALLY PAID ATTENTION for once. I had lunch with Star and her friend group, and I honestly kinda feel like they're MY friends now too, even just a little bit.

Actually, I used to rant about feeling lonely like all the time but now I have so many friends it's crazy they all keep inviting me places and it's like people WANT ME AROUND... idk. It makes me happy.

Today I gotta ask if tommroow after school I can go to Bee's house to watch Supernatural (famous homoerotic ghost show)

I should also add songs to Erin's spotify playlist for our picnic saturday which I still need permission to go to.

I gotta ask for Wednesday after school to watch Insidious with Jay  which is apparently really good

Also hes the friend that I gotta explain stuff to... the DrAmA... the ThEaTrE....

Update my dad said yes to hanging out with Bee but first I'm gonna miss school to fix my broken brackets on my braces

Also turns out the house I THOUGHT we were moving into has substantial damage from shifting so... we aRENT moving there.

In case you didn't know, shifting is when like the house that's been built literally SHIFTS like it moves around.

Anwyays Jay just texted me... I'm gonna change into shorts since it's hot, set up my study area,.... and respond to him.

The time is 3:22 p.m.

Wish me. Luck.

Luck is plentiful! As it so often is in my risky, risky life.

I play my cards right. It's a learnt skill.

But also there wasnt much to explain since it passed already and was tiny anywyas.

XD so I've made up with the whole goddamn world by now.

Its 6:31, we saw 1 house. Only one. Its kinda hot out but I'm gonna bike now since we just had supper. I finally finished my homework... I just have to finish one mixed media piece as my final project for art!

Friday is my replacement. On photosynthesis and cell resp. We know this. But what I didn't mention, or I dont THINK I did, is that if I finish my art project before then I have the second block FREE!!! Me, Star, and her friend

A are planning to leave for second block and maybe get mint chocolate chip ice cream!

Also I might eat her out XD

Anyways idk. I hope I can bike tonight to call Jay.

I keep accidentally using people's real names here then having to correct it... I dont know how much i care about MY identity being discovered... but to have my friends doxxed would suck.

Man I feel bad abt saying fuck star last night cos we made up....

Wait we r looking at another house? Idk I'm in the car still waiting to go home

Oh wait no now we r goin home

Its 6:39... I hope I still have time.

I went biking, called Jay. Went home. Idk, friendly conversation... we talked more tonight and I also talked to my other friend A. Jay is... I LOVE HIM?? SO MUCH??? I feel so happy. Talking to him thinking about him seeing his STUPID FUCKING FACE JESUS. his eyes alone... I could stare at his face all day probably. I want to kiss him... hOLD HIS HAND... omg... huG HIM!!! Eofjwpxjwie he's so sweet like I can't even... and I'm proabably not good enough for him like. Wtf. Hes easily a 10. And I dont rate things outta 10. How tf do I end up with HIM? Doing stuff, as friends. Like wHAT. I guess I got lucky XD. He says he loves my personality and I'm hot XD ofc I dont see it myself. But like. JESUS CHRIST he could proabably easily pull whOever. XD me?

Whatever though. As long as we r together and stuff. I LOVE HIM A LOT. he said he loved me. Every time he says that it makes me so overly happy.

Maybe I'm just sappy and stuff.... whatever. I think it would be nice to be hugged by him.

Yeah I'm cheesy.

I'm sorta tired now so maybe I'm not writing the best.

I just keep thinkinf about love. Love is a muscle of evil suggestion. But how evil can it really be? I am just a human being and that is all. Everything else is applied. I am just a human being with soemthing in my heart that pulls me all over the place. Love is this strange thing because I'm fucked up and to be able to love without that fucked up part of me, without the damage... is this complicated, hard thing to do and I can NEVER tell if I'm doing it right but I know I'm DOING IT. I know I FEEL LOVE. And soemtimes it's such an intense thing like when you go to surf on a wave at the beach with ur belly but u hit it wrong and it's so big and overwhelming it washes over you and PULLS you down to the bottom and smushes your face into the sand and YOU CANT BREATHE jesus Christ it's like that.

Or maybe I just want to experience love as it should be felt.

Obviously all of my problems surrounding this Damage could be easily fixed if I went to therapy but. there are reasons I can't.

I LOVE a lot. Too much for my own good. Enough to hurt me, get me into trouble, etc etc but also... enough to liberate me. I LOVE. I love Jay. So much. LIKE. MY BRAIN ORBITS AROUND HIM CONSTANTLY THINKING OF HIM AND PRAISING HIM AND MWUAH HE IS SO LOVELY I BOW BEFORE HIM...

I think as much as I love, a lot of the times I tend to focus even more on BEING loved.

If I am told I am loved, and shOwN I am loved... it is one of the most powerful things. Especially since I was literally emotionally neglected in childhood... yeah. I feel like I'm always trying to fill that hole.

Not EVERY feeling I have is for that reaosn but sometimes, if you tell me you love me, show me you love me, hug me,... I'll like start crying,,, that's the childhood emotional neglect kicking in. If you call me #smol and #cute and say I look young and fragile which happens more often than you'd think XD, I know I'm not supposed to like that shit, so I act like I dont....but I do. Which is PROBABLY ALSO THE CEN 🤪  like whatever lol

Anwyays I'm fucked up

You see how quickly things become complicated in my mind?

Convoluted? Is that the word?

Whatever. I OVERCOMPLICATE THINGS COS I OVERTHINK THEM BECAUSE I'm LITERALLY MENTALLY ILL IN SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS. I'm not joking. I obviously have unresolved undiagnosed "issues"

I do Suspect things, though.

I can make a list

Maybe I shouldn't.

Maybe I will.

I shouldnt.

Whatever.

I used to hate when people brought up my self harm. I would actually panic. I still self harm but now? Now I'm fine with anyone  talking about it as long as it's not an adult who can get me into trouble/force me into therapy over it. Because really? I kinda like having it mentioned. It's kinda validating and it's like hey... people can see that I'm sick.

I dont do it so people talk to me about it though. Dont get me wrong. If I did, I'd go vertically on the arms, not for suicide but so it healed and people would ask XD.

My scars are actually VERY hidden... cos I never intended for ANYONE to see. But for those who DO see them,,,, it's nice soemtimes to have people express concern.

I dont wanna be PITIED or anything, but idk I just think to myself "wow, they're CONCERNED... about ME... they arent angry or mean... they didnt yell at me or threaten me... they respect my autonomy and privacy...

And they CARE ABOUT ME..." and it makes me cry.

That's also the CEN.

I dont know. I just like when people express genuine concern. Even if they see and then just ask if I'm okay. That's all it takes cos then I go wow.

Its validating and irs lovely because finally people care... FINALLY PEOPLE CARE. FINALLY I GET SOME EMPATHY OR SYMPATHY AND NO ANGER.

Even just having them brought up tells me its noticeable enough

My brain does this thing where it thinks nothing bad that's ever happened to me was Bad Enough for me to be upset about.

And I dont know... its nice sometimes to be told shit like "omg that looks so bad" or to see that people who do see my cuts are somewhat shocked or revolted... it's nice because I go... "hey, it was bad enough for them..."

Or to have people comment on them with concern. Just ANYTHINT WHERE PEOPLE NOTICE IT AND ARENT ASSHOLES ABOUT IT IS VALIDATING.

Because I'm not used to that...

Because CEN

I'm. The worst perosn on the fucking planet.

I should kill myself.

I suddenly actually feel so self hating I do want to kill myself... oh god.

I ruin everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. What have I done. Like. Why. Oh god.

I'm just remembering when Star said my kindness seemed like an act. And how I've been called out for seeming fake like 2 other times.

DO I SEEM FAKE???? I DONT EVER PUT ON ACTS OF KINDESS.... CONCIOUSLY? but the very idea that I could be perceived that way...

Should I like not try to be nice or some shit?

Jesus christ she hurts my feelings even now when it was a long time ago.

But I cant blame her. I can't blame anyone for how i feel except my parents because they left me with fucking. Heart nerve damage or some shit.

I'm tired and now I'm sad too. Goodnight guys.

[aliceslantern]

Beyond this Existence, chapter 16

Summary:  After Xehanort's death, Demyx finds himself unexpectedly human in Radiant Garden. With nothing but fragments of his past and a cryptic statement from Xemnas, he's left to figure out who he is. When Ienzo asks for his help with a project, the two find common ground, but the trauma and secrets in both of their pasts could tear it apart. Zemyx (Demyx/Ienzo), post-KH3 canon compliant

Read it on FF.net/ on AO3

----

Excerpt of an audio recording from device 5.875.32.852 (admin is registered as EVEN [surname REDACTED]. Transcription programs recognize the speaking voice of the admin as well as one other distinct voice. Transcription errors due to colloquialisms, slang, accent, muffled speech, etc. are acknowledged and will be used in further evolutions of this program.

Recording commences at 16:03.

--I hope you do not mind that I am recording this. I assure you any we can redact any exceedingly personal information. This is for my edification only. I would never dream of letting it fall into unsavory hands.

--Uh. Sure.

--Can you state your name and age in its entirety?

--Yeah. I’m [birth name and surname REDACTED]. I still go by Demyx. I’m twenty-two.

--That’s your name? That’s not what I thought.

--Yeah, well. It seems like I’m full of surprises. I don’t care who knows it, but it doesn’t seem to fit right anymore. You know?

--I suppose. So. Can you tell me what you remember, as far back as you can, as comfortably as you can?

--I’ll try.

----

These memories don’t feel like mine.

It’s weird. I guess it’s more like I’m reading a book, or watching a movie.

“It” started, if by it you mean all this Keyblade crap, when I was five. I was my parents’ only kid. We were broke. Like, squatting and going to soup kitchens broke. There were the early days, when the Foretellers--the five chosen ones or whatever--were just building their unions and preaching about their ideas in the plaza. I’m honestly not sure if they were the first wielders, but they were definitely the ones that made it a thing, That promised this as the way to seek the light.

Heartless started coming--from the future, or so they said in the square. We needed a way to defend ourselves. So they started testing people for worthiness. Kids were always easier. Less corrupt. More full of light.

More manipulable.

They said they would take the kids from more troubled circumstances, and give them what they needed to survive. In my parents’ eyes, food and a place to live. The luckier ones could stay at home. So that caused a big influx of poor people sending their kids in to be tested and trained. While some of the better off ones saw it as a sign of honor, everyone else wanted to keep their kids safe. Even the ones with Keyblades were dying.

My parents figured Heartless were better than me starving to death. So they sent me, by myself, for the test.

The older ones could pick their unions, but the real little ones like me they chose a more “organic” approach. They take you inside, and there the Foretellers are with a little table of five toys. Apparently picking one shows some intrinsic quality they’re looking for, or whatever. I got chosen to be in Ursus. And just like that, my mom and dad hugged me goodbye and left me there.

It was hard. Physically, mentally. I missed my parents. The training was grueling, and it hurt. But whenever I would cry or get upset either Master Aced or one of the older kids would tell me to be quiet. Because I was lucky. And I had a chance to be something.

But you see, Even, it doesn’t matter how lucky I was. I was still getting razzed by Heartless, getting thrown in and out of time to these worlds, getting reprimanded for bunging off quests or not getting enough lux. I got kicked out of a few parties for that. Making friends wasn’t so easy when I got a reputation for being a crybaby and a coward, even though I was six or seven.

I still tried to see my parents when I got a chance. They moved around a lot. Dad tried to get steady work a few times, but I think he had some kind of mental illness or something, and he could never be on time, or do what he was told, or get out of bed, so they lost their apartments a lot. Mom was a street musician, and she took in students sometimes, but it wasn’t enough money.

She taught me, too.

Compared to Keyblade stuff, music was so easy. I was so good at it. Knowing I wasn’t terrible at everything gave me strength to go on. I had a way to take all the bad feelings, all the nightmares, and make something beautiful out of it.

I tried to quit the union.

You wouldn’t believe the telling off Master Aced gave me. “Why was I ashamed of my heritage”. “Why wasn’t I doing my part.” “What did I think I would become otherwise, I came from the gutter.” It was devastating. Without the Keyblade, they said, I was worthless. I didn’t want to believe that was true.

As the years passed, and this all kept happening, I tried to study music on the side. That’s when I started keeping the diary. I wrote these weird avant-garde compositions, but that wasn’t enough to salve the pain. So I wrote how I felt, and if anybody found it, I’d just say it was nonsense. But nobody did, though. During that time the tensions between the unions started to grow, mostly over who was getting the most light. Kids were fighting in the streets. Killing each other’s Chirithys--that’s how I lost mine. Even the most legendary parties fell apart. People were still dying.

One of these days, when I was almost seventeen, I was going back to the dorms after another quest. Master Ava--Vulpes’s leader--stopped me. She said she’d heard about me, and I braced myself for another lecture like the ones Aced liked to give. But it was my focus on the bigger picture of my life she liked, she said. She wanted me to join a special union she was building.

The Dandelions.

The reason she built this union was because she feared there would soon be war between the others, and that war would escalate to apocalyptic proportions. Remember, we’d all been training for years at that point, we all had way overpowered magic--even me. But because we had no foresight as to anything other than collecting lux, nobody could see the consequences of fighting.

She was going to take this special union, and she was going to teach us how to escape this world altogether, just to make sure somebody survived.

I know you’re probably dying to know how we did it, but I honestly can’t remember. It was some kind of spell, for sure. I know that each of us cast it, and we were all supposed to go together. But it’s one of those things too slippery and powerful to hold onto for long. Not to mention, this travel was supposed to wipe our memories of the trauma and give us a fresh start. So she said.

The war started earlier than expected. The only reason I went to the battle was to find the other Dandelions so we could leave. But I’m not sure if I missed a memo or something. They were gone. Then again, there were so many bodies that had been just so completely fucking destroyed that they could have been some of these people.

…

…

…

[Audio muffled or indiscernible; external knowledge of social cues suggests emotional distress.]

People were just fucking killing each other. They… they tried to kill me, too. I remember Keyblades hitting my armor and I panicked. And I guess instinctively I cast the spell and got out. Got somewhere, or I guess some when is the better word. I ended up in the same place, just later, surrounded by all these rusting Keyblades, my memories completely cleaved and running through my fingers like sand. I remember that, feeling it all drain away like a dream.

That’s when Xemnas found me. When things started to hurt. The shock and the armor made it hard to tell, but someone had stabbed me clean through the chest.

He was nice to me, too. He said he’d been waiting for me and that I was going to be okay. He could give me purpose. My wounds would heal.

I died, and Demyx was born. Memory-free.

You know the rest.

End recording, duration--25:17.

----

“Goodness gracious. ” Like a child listening to their favorite story, he’d been leaning forward attentively. He’d even started recording it on his gummiphone, which Demyx initially felt was a violation of his privacy. But considering how close-lipped Vexen had always been about his experiments, he knew, if anything, his words would be safe in Even’s hands. “This is a window into our history.”

“Yours, maybe.”

“You simply must tell me more about these Foretellers. How is this organization structured? What was their training regimen like? Who was their leader--did they have a leader?”

“It's a lot to talk about." His throat was dry from talking for so long.

Even exhaled. He paused the recording. “I suppose you’re right. Of course you must be very tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I would say so.”

A beat of silence.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” Even said. “I realize… it is not easy. Especially given our past relationship.”

“Like you said. Forgiveness.”

He nodded once, curtly. “Would you like something to help you sleep?”

“I think I’ll be okay. But thanks.”

“Well. Don’t get too used to it.”

Demyx looked at him. He didn’t know how else to be kind, Demyx realized. It must take immense effort. “Wake me up if anything changes with Ienzo,” he said. “Please.”

“You can be sure of it.”

----

The next several days, he felt utterly hollow. Demyx slept a lot. This was a sort of mental exhaustion. He was afraid to stray too far away from Ienzo’s side, but his condition remained unchanged. Guilt clung to him. He wasn’t really sure what to do with himself. He cleaned his room, which took all of ten minutes considering his lack of possessions. Did laundry. Found a couple books to read which weren’t half bad. It was a toxic combination of boredom and stagnation. At the end of the first week of this, Dilan asked him to come play cards.

“I figure you could use a bit of a diversion,” he said. He offered a smile.

“I guess I’m being pretty pathetic, huh,” Demyx said. He forced a laugh.

“Given the circumstances? No. But wallowing must be horrifically boring.”

Dilan’s quarters were even smaller than Even’s. He and Aeleus shared a sitting room and kitchenette. A faint smell of garlic lingered in the room, along with something like eucalyptus. He had a small herb garden, each one meticulously cared for. Near this was a pile of puzzle boxes.

Dilan took out a pack of cards. Demyx sat gingerly on the couch. It was less stern than the other furniture, a bit more comfortable, a soft velor that felt good to touch. He was becoming increasingly reliant on the tactile to stay grounded. He didn’t know if this was one of his myriad issues, or an effect of being overwhelmed.

Dilan crossed to a small glass cabinet. “Would you like a drink?”

“God. Yes.”

He poured them each a few fingers of whiskey into small crystal glasses. It burned when Demyx sipped it, but he liked it. “What shall we play? It’s a shame we’ve no third. I’d rather have liked to play Blackjack.”

“It’s not like I have anything to bet.”

“Too, too true.”

They settled on Hearts. Demyx didn’t know what to say to Dilan. After winning the first game, Dilan got them another drink.

“I’m not sure how I feel about your newfound reticence,” Dilan said. “It’s so odd, to see how humanity has changed you youth.”

“How so?”

“You were hardly ever so reserved. Ienzo was never so friendly. You should have heard him, chattering away to Sora. ...I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t bother me. To hear his name. Either of them, I mean.” He felt only a shadow of the ping of anxiety he got when thinking about Sora. Of course, knowing what he knew now, it made sense that Sora’d had to strike him down. Psychically, there were bigger fish to fry.

“You’ve got a focus to you. An intensity. It’s like you’re more present.”

“I don’t feel very present.”

“Well. We’ve all received some shocks recently.”

The alcohol was making him warm and a little dizzy. Demyx wasn’t sure whether or not he liked the sensation. He slipped off his shoes and pulled his feet up under him. “Why did you become an apprentice?”

Dilan thought for a moment, shuffled his cards, and then drank down the remainder of his whiskey in one swallow. “Why indeed,” he muttered. “I was only a boy at the time, a bit younger than yourself. I needed something to do with my life. I’d always liked creating things. Building things. Ansem had passed some initiatives to make Radiant Garden a haven for the sciences. I applied to study engineering under him, and was accepted.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” He chuckled. “Why did you choose to become a Keyblade wielder?”

“I didn’t,” Demyx said. “It chose me. I was poor. Being a wielder was pretty much the only way to survive.”

“I abhor such economies,” Dilan said sourly. “I cannot understand how some leaders will let their charges suffer for basic human rights.”

“I can’t really have a realized perspective of it. I was still a kid when I left.”

“What will you do now?”

“What will I… do?” Demyx repeated numbly. “Frankly, I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

“You and I both.”

He continued to pet the velor. He was feeling dizzier still, and heavy. “I want to be with Ienzo,” he said. “And I want to make friends. Real ones. But I don’t know where I’d fit.”

“What’s that old adage? “Be yourself?””

“Hasn’t exactly worked in the past.”

“It is a theory of mine that becoming a Nobody worsens one’s flaws and insecurities.” Dilan poured them another drink. “Our personalities devolved and repelled. Fed by darkness. Take your time. Be honest. That’s all.”

Demyx picked up the crystal cup and swirled the amber liquid around a little. “I guess.”

“What about that guitar of yours?”

“Sitar?”

“Yes. That.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I’ll find out.”

---

The next day, it sleeted. The echo of the splotches of snow piling up outside was audible within the confines of the castle. Demyx went to the library, armed with a cup of coffee. He lit a fire in the hearth. Once it was large enough to tend to itself, he sat down cross legged in front of it.

For some reason he was nervous. This was akin to stage fright. He’d much rather be worthy of Arpeggio than the stupid Keyblade.

Demyx held out his hands and pulled from within. The Keyblade appeared. He sighed. “I don’t want you,” he muttered. Let it disappear. He remembered the way the sitar had felt, the perfect weight of it, the smooth varnished wood.

Keyblade again. Demyx had to resist the urge to just toss the damn thing. He stared down at it. Traced the smooth shaft, twisted the links of the chain.

“Please,” he said to it. “I don’t want to fight. I just want--”

Not to be an idiot talking to an inanimate object?

Vanishing. Reappearing. It didn’t matter how long he thought about his Nobody memories, of all the music he’d ever made with Arpeggio. Of the fights or occasionally lack thereof.

“Are you mad at me?” Demyx asked out loud. “I didn’t ask for this to all happen.”

Hadn’t he?

Oh, we do too have hearts. Don’t be mad.

“Shut up,” he hissed at himself.

The fire popped as a log settled, startling him.

“Is it because I’m not him anymore?” he continued. “I’m still the sa-- no. I’m not.”

Demyx lay back on the plush carpet.

Remembering death was not easy. Doubly hard now that he knew it wasn’t the first time he’d been slain with Keyblades. Some of them were sharp, most blunt. You’d crush your ribs before you drew blood. Which was what happened. He rested his palm on the spot were the scars were.

Sora, Donald, Goofy. So much rage. Realization that this was a murder-suicide. He was able to pin Sora twice before the pain was too much. Before fading. Before waking up. Before Braig, with a soft smile, and a boy with silver hair, and a hot stab to the chest. What would have happened, really, if he hadn’t been turned into a vessel? What would he have done? Run away? Spent his life friendless, unloved and alone?

Without Ienzo?

He needed connections. Without them he could never hope to be whole--at least, figuratively. He had to do better. To be better. But how? Fancy displays of heroism were functionally worthless if there was no real intent behind them.

Demyx stood. Despite it all, he sort of had an idea.

----

The winter coat he had was warm enough, but it was not quite waterproof, and by the time he’d waded through the slop he was damp and chilly. When he reached the door of the committee’s headquarters, though, a knot of anxiety overrode his physical discomfort. Demyx stood for several moments at the door as wet snow piled on his hat, unsure of what to say. Several times he reached up to knock and withdrew his hand. He had barely placed his palm on the doorknob before it opened of its own accord.

“‘Could’ve finished War and Peace in the time it took you to make up your mind,” a middle-aged blond man said gruffly. “Come on in, kid.” He was smoking a cigarette, and its smell mixed with the ambient woodsmoke. “Don’t think we’ve formally met. I’m Cid.” He offered his hand. “Saw you unconscious, but I don’t think you remember that.”

“Not--exactly--” Demyx shook his hand.

“Let me take your jacket before you get snow everywhere.” He took the wet garments and hung them on a coat rack.

“It’s warm in here,” Demyx said, half in wonder. He was so used to the drafty castle that he’d forgotten what adequate heating felt like.

Cid raised an eyebrow. “‘Course it is.”

“It’s, um, the castle. Heating’s not very good.”

“I imagine it wouldn’t be.”

A beat passed. Demyx felt his anxiety rising and floundered for things to say.

“I’m guessing you’re here for Aerith?” Cid asked. He stubbed out the cigarette in an ashtray.

“Well. Sort of. I want to help.”

“With what,” he said blankly.

“Anything. I mean I--” Demyx could feel himself turning red.

“In the middle of winter?”

He bit his lip and looked down.

Cid chuckled. “I’m messing with you, kid. We’re always happy to have an extra pair of hands. Any of ya’ll got a sense of humor over there?”

“Let’s just say it’s been a tough week,” Demyx said.

“I’ll say. Weather’s been driving us mad. I finally kicked out Yuffie and Leon to get some peace and quiet.”

“...Er. Sorry about that.”

He shrugged. “I’m sure one or both of them will be back soon. They know a bit more about the operations stuff than I do. Why don’t you have a seat?”

Demyx perched in one of the folding chairs. Cid sat back down at a computer and began absently writing code. He wondered if he should say something. Anything. Ask questions. He kept his hands knotted in his lap.

A door he hadn’t noticed previously opened, and out came Aerith, drying her hands on a towel. “Demyx? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

“Fine--well, enough. I’m here to help.”

She crossed over a plant on the table and cut off a few of its leaves. “Can’t do a whole lot in the winter other than plan, unfortunately.”

“What are you doing with those?”

“Making medicine.” She nodded her head towards the other room. “Want to see?”

He followed her. It was a small, narrow room, with a cot up against one wall. The other wall was lined with cabinets and some counter space. A few different types of dried leaves and blooms were stuffed in the myriad little drawers. She took the leaves, scattered them into mortar. To Demyx, the mix looked like a salad more than a medicine. She crushed it down, whispered a spell, and then with an odd little device began packing it into capsules. “Pectin,” she explained. “Goes down easier than the raw leaves. And doesn’t get stuck in your throat.”  She held up the tiny pill so he could see.

“What does it do?” Demyx asked.

“Cold cure,” she said simply. “We need lots of it this time of year. And colds always change. I’m forever tweaking it.”

A memory he hadn’t fully process washed in. He’d never been the best fighter in any of his parties, often left to provide background support. The spells then he’d used had been barbaric in comparison, but at least it kept people alive.

“When did you learn how to do all this stuff?” he asked. He was feeling odd.

“Oh, ever since I was a kid,” she said. “My mom and grandma before me were healers. They sorta taught me what I know now. And I’m also teaching myself.”

“Do you think it’s possible for someone else to learn?”

She crushed more herbs. “I’m sure it is. It’s magic like anything else.”

“What about--say--me?”

Aerith turned slightly. She appraised him.

“I’ve been wanting to help people and I don’t know how. You saved me. You saved Ienzo. I can’t do science, and I’m not a good fighter. But I have a good memory.” He considered the irony of that statement. But he’d always been good at memorizing.

“It’s a long road. This isn’t something you can do halfway. People’s lives could be at stake. But you know that.” She smiled a little. Tapped her forehead. “You’ve been through a lot in your life. Seen a lot of suffering.”

“Haven’t we all,” he said dryly.

“That’s… right.” She dusted off her hands. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, or believe you can do it. But you’ve gotta have a certain kind of tenacity. An ingenuity. Tell you what. Why don’t you read some base healing theory? There’s no way Ansem doesn’t have books about it. If that doesn’t send you running for the hills, we can talk.” She winked.

Demyx nodded. “Okay. Sounds good.”

“Good luck.”

He stood.

“Was that the answer you needed?” she asked.

“I think it was.”

----

A week or so passed. He tried to do what Aerith said, and study. But Demyx had never been the most studious, and almost everything he learned sans the very basics he’d learned in the field. He spent these minutes and hours alternating between the text and the dictionary. Why were academics such bad writers?

Sometimes he studied near Ienzo, sometimes he didn’t. Ienzo slept and slept and slept. Demyx could feel the utter lack of presence like a missing tooth. Honestly, being around him and not being able to talk to him was nearly painful.

During one of these marathon reading sessions, Even came in to check Ienzo’s vitals, as he did several times each day. “EKG activity is still fairly limited. But improving. He must be dreaming.”

“About what?” Demyx asked.

“I’ve no idea. ...What is that?” He reached town and felt at Demyx’s temperature. “Are you quite alright?”

Demyx sighed, marked his place in the book, and shut it. “I’m studying. Sue me.”

“But why?”

He drummed his fingers on the desk. “You’re just going to make fun of me.”

“I will… not,” Even said with great restraint.

Demyx raised an eyebrow.

“I must admit I am still getting used to the new you. Tell me. I will withhold judgement.”

“I’m thinking of learning to heal. Like. The magic.” He braced himself.

Even didn’t laugh. “Really? Why is that?”

“I want to help people. And this seems like something I can actually do.” He sighed. “I hate feeling helpless. If I can help someone not feel that way, it’d be nice. You know.”

“I admit I never put much stock in such magic initially. But seeing how that woman has cared for the two of you, I’m starting to change my mind.”

“Do you think I can do it?”

Even considered this. “You had a fairly potent magical ability in the Organization. I don’t see why not.”

“You don’t think I’m too stupid?”

He scowled. “I find it stupid that you hold my opinion in such high esteem.” Then, softening. “As you said. You’re not a scientist. But that really has little to do with practical intelligence.” He picked up the tome. “I’d be glad to help you, should you so want it. These aren’t exactly light reading. It’d be convenient to have another pair of hands.” He picked up another bag of saline. “Well. If you’re so interested, I might as well teach you how to do this much.” He showed Demyx how to change the IV and how to take base vitals. “I’m hoping we won’t need to do this for too much longer. But that’s all up to him.” Even patted Ienzo’s head.

“I miss him.” He felt tears in his eyes.

“As do I,” Even said softly. “Come. Are you hungry?”

---

The more Demyx studied, the more his memories became clearer. In those first shocked days, it had been hard to focus on any memory for very long. Now, not so much.

He’d been a healer then, but not a very good one. He’d still been a coward. More than once someone had gotten egregiously hurt because he hadn’t been willing to step up. He’d been kicked out of multiple parties that way.

He didn’t want to be a coward. It was time to be mature; a grown up. Deal with grown up things in a grown up way. Don’t run. Face it. The hurt will be over that much faster.

For the first time, he tried to summon the Keyblade because he wanted to. But that wasn’t what happened. Instead of cool metal, there was warm, varnished wood. Familiar. Well-worn. He held the sitar tenderly. Cried a bit out of relief.

He was still, despite it all, himself.

[frenchibi]

4, 6, 7, 27, 37, 44, 51 ^^ (ahsjsjksd everything（ﾉ｡≧◇≦）ﾉ ✨)

AHH THANK YOU FOR SENDING SO MANY!!!

4. Do you have writing habits or rituals?

Hm - I mean, I have been posting one fic a week this year, so I guess I have a schedule? As for my process… it’s different. Usually I like to have some kind of music on the background, but sometimes it irritates me, it really depends on what I’m writing ^^ Also even though it’s way slower than typing, I still really love writing on paper.

6. Favorite character you ever created.

Oh boy. I haven’t written anything for my OCs in like… two years? Ish? And I have so MANY original ideas, idk if I can pick a favorite story, let alone a favorite character?? :00

I do have a lot of love for the three main characters in one of my more recent stories - it’s a dystopian type thing and the story is about three brothers, Zack, Ian and Lee - I don’t know how much I can tell even because it’s been so long since I’ve thought about the plot and idk if I might want to change it or something hdfjklahsdf but. I love these boys so much.

Basically, Zack is the oldest and he’s a hard worker and protective of his brothers (a kind soul really) - he kick-starts the plot because he overhears their mother speaking of [redacted] and decides they need to run away, and since he’s the only one old enough to legally work in this society he’s the one keeping them alive.

Lee is the youngest and all he wants is to be “one of the big kids”, he’s really smart but always getting himself into situations that Zack is afraid he can’t handle. He’s bright and loud and honestly way too noticeable :’)

…and Ian… my precious boy :’) He takes on a false identity to protect his family because they’re on the run (and people will be looking for three boys their age), he’s the middle child and he’s not quite a kid anymore, but not quite grown up yet either - he’s an observer, quiet and careful, and he hates that his brothers are always fighting since they’re all they’ve got left.

There’s a lot more characters in this story but I think the boys are my favorites rn :D

7. Favorite author.

Already answered here :D Though tbh I’ll gladly yell about my favorite books again, and I’ll never get tired of rec’ing @josai‘s fics! (and I have an entire rec tag for fics and fic authors, just btw)

27. Do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished? 28. And who do you share them with?

(Added 28 because it sort of makes sense)

So - I don’t post rough drafts as such, or WIPs (except talking about the basic idea, see here) but I do share fics with my friend @josai before I post them :D Her feedback is really valuable to me. And occasionally with other writing friends too (as you know, Rikka! ^^), especially when I think the topic will interest them!

37. Most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you.

…ahhhh I’m so bad at keeping track of quotes?? I have an endless memory for song lyrics though, do those count? I’ll link the songs, too!

Some of my favorites include:

“Heavy stones fear no weather” - from Empire by Of Monsters And Men 

“We are made of our smallest thoughts, we are breathing and letting go - we will take the best parts of ourselves and make them gold” - from Make Them Gold by Chvrches

“Why do you write like you’re running out of time” and “Why do you write like history has its eyes on you” from Non-Stop from Hamilton 

“Who lives, who dies, who tells your story”, also from Hamilton

“You’re old enough to kill, but not for voting” from Eve Of Destruction by J2

“Why are we so incomplete” and “All I own is dust and gold” from Dust & Gold by Arrows to Athens

“Start by putting one foot in front of the other - look out for your sister, stand up for your brother” from Got Love by Hedley 

“As the world comes to an end, I’ll be there to hold your hand” from King and Lionheart by Of Monsters And Men 

“I don’t wanna be the one who’s left behind (don’t blame me, don’t hate me)” from Old Scars/Future Hearts by All Time Low 

“Maybe I’m breaking up with myself” and “Maybe I’m destined to be distraught” - from The Fall by Imagine Dragons

“When air is filled with dust and dying dreams” and “Hate us, it’ll only save us - stronger than we came up, we are leaving it all” from This City is Contagious by The Cab

…I could keep going tbh but I think that’s quite enough lmao

44. Best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

This is probably not what you’d expect but… the best feedback for something I’ve written came from my mom, and it was work-related xD I’m constantly learning from her. I get a fair share of positive comments and every one of them makes me absolutely elated - but it’s rare to get feedback that actually feels like it’s helping me progress, recently? Hm. (Although I have to say here that your comments are among the best I’ve received, Rikka!!)

51. Describe the aesthetic of your story _______ in 5 sentences or words.

Since you didn’t specify which one, I guess I get to pick?

Born For Glory is a fic that was more experiment than anything else and I have a lot of feelings about how it turned out. I was going for minimalist writing, using as little words as I could to describe as much as possible. The idea of this is though that almost everything is left vague enough so that everyone who reads it reads a story that’s a little bit different? And that style heightens the impact of when I DO specify what’s happening.

I’d love to hear what more people thought about this one tbh!!

Actually I’ve been talking to @amalasdraws because I’ve been thinking of a sequel to this that would be very similar to her roadtrip AU and I kind of really want to make that happen?? :D

…this got longer than I anticipated!! Thank you for asking (so much!!!), these questions are so intriguing?? I’d definitely love to answer more! (The list is here!)

[souichipresents]

Souichi Presents: [REDACTED] For Your Enjoyment

TKyahaha! Welcome, welcome back to Souichi Presents! YOUR the one stop shop for 90% Junji Itou based reviews, with a 10% error bar of “whatever thing with horror or monsters in it your humble author happens to have consumed recently.” AND TODAY IS NO DIFFERENT! With my triumphant return, I happen to feel like covering a unusual subject. Something distinctly less... picture oriented. 

A little more paperwork oriented. Indeed, I speak only of....

THE SCP FOUNDATION 

As far as horror online goes, the SCP foundation practically needs no introduction. The premise is full of delicious hooks: a government agency who’s sole job is to find, catalogue, and as needed isolate “strange thingS” in the world, to protect the common population from them. All of the main writing on the site follows the specific structure of in-fiction files, using structured forms and terminology. The subject matter can vary from the apocalyptic to abstractly innocuous, living humans to living... somethings. 

Reading enough of them begins to paint a larger picture; other factions and groups involved with these items creations from the distinctly un-child friendly “Dr. Wondertainment” products, to the rich-catering dealers in terrifying strangeness Marshal, Carter and Dark. 

The appeal to me of SCP is- well probably a little too lengthly for an introduction~ But in short, I actually adore the feeling of... mundanity they seem to contain. Minutia, tests, paperwork. Normal people working an incredibly terrifying, dangerous, strange job. I like when the things they find aren’t... necessarily made to be understood. Things in horror often feel like they’re MADE for you. A understandable story is presented to you. 

But sometimes, you just have to appreciate the idea of something completely breaking our concept of reality as we know it and not giving a damn if it’s at all coherent. Fuck you, here’s a cows heart on crab legs that talks in a british accented word salad, and its trying to kill you. Horribly. Why? They have no idea. But they do know if they keep it in several feet of iron and concrete, and feed it a cow every few days, they can keep it’s hideous stinger away from YOU. 

With all that said, I don’t want to tread old ground: Nobody needs to be told that the vending machine that dispenses increasingly obtuse snacks possibly from vastly different universes then ours is awesome. So instead I spent awhile hitting up the archive at random, selecting entries I feel represent my favorite concepts in the site that were *new* to me. Let’s see what I dredged from the archives on an absolutely forged security clearance starting with.... 

SCP 1860; “It’s Bleeding Song”

I’ll never say that an SCP *needs* pictures; in my opinion many, many entries fly on the strength of written descriptions. Besides which, if you recognize what a SCP’s image actually is (say, a decomposing whale) it can remove some of the punch. BUT I’ll say this one’s image really puts the hooks in, especially as soon as it becomes clear that it’s... not dangerous. 

Instead, it’s just strange, and... sad. I find this sadder and more troubling then some of the more human SCP. Something about seeming ike a constructed item- about how it CAN communicate, but just doesn’t... care to? It leaves mysterious holes you can just glimpse pieces of a strange, sad story through. It also doesn’t have *too* much to it-really on the whole we’re seeing three ieas, and it sticks firmly to it. 

Not to say there can’t be complicated SCPs, but it can get a little unwieldy. This is an example of an SCP with a strong thesis. 

SCP 889; “Hybridization”

Once again this is a technically nonlethal item, but it’s also... much much more disquieting. Not just because of what it does, which is introduced hilarious DND style hybridization rules to the ‘real world’, but because it exists. It exists, and you have to think about the idea that someone MADE it. 

Also whoever wrote this was a master of the backburner scare; dropping a detail in the containment procedure that doesn’t click until you’ve read a lot further down the page: “. If any prokaryotes are discovered exhibiting the effect of SCP-889, or if any staff members contract an unusual illness, SCP-889 is to be incinerated and sealed indefinitely. All staff members and equipment are to be decontaminated fully”

Prokaryotes, aka single celled organisms. That’s a fun thought. Super fun. Not the worst thing I’ve ever heard at all. 

SCP 956; “The Child Breaker”

Alright so. I’ll be honest with you guys. I really just. Think a living pinat that beats people open till they launch candy made out of their organs to be deeply hilarious. That’s on me. In theory this is a stupid, stupid, goofy idea. But if you’ve read my reviews before you probably know that I adore horror letting it’s self be silly. Goofy, odd things can be more terrifying then ‘serious’ horror designs. If you need proof, just look at any ill designed inanimate object mascot for a local business.

But this one really shines because of one detail: the discovery that it has always been, when deactivating, turning to stare in the direction of the nearest elementary school. Just like that you experience a chilling snap from ‘silly’ to ‘horrifying’ that’s just delightful. 

SCP 1075; “The Forest Formerly Known as Vince”

In contrast this SHOULD feel silly, but the deeper I went into it, the more it became... disquieting. It SHOULD be ‘heh, they think the tree is people’. But then there’s... details. Moments like the interview with the woman who is listed as the trees ex-wife where it’s not... even a HAPPY story. But it’s not grimdark or anything. It’s just... sad. 

It settles. It settles in the seams of the SCP Foundation’s story structure. See I’m not a big fan of the entries painting the Foundation as EEEEVIL DARK etc. It’s just a government group trying to keep shit in control and... doing as well as any government enforcement could be doing. It’s up to interpretation, and for my part I’m 100% more interested in people doing their best and sometimes failing. 

But they do fail sometimes. And there’s the big failures, or even the SCPs they’re just barely keeping in check, or can’t. But then there’s the seams of things that aren’t a BIG deal, necessarily. But you just feel... a little disquieted. I like the texture on this one. 

SCP 1319; “The Split-Up”

This might be one of my current favorites just because it raises so, so, so, so, so many questions. What exactly does this MEAN for the world? For... all humans? Why then? Why?

You really feel like workers at SCP had plenty to be afraid of without worrying that THIS could happen. 

SCP 1160; “Effective Containment”

Considering how much containment features into the SCP, I’m surprised I don’t see more entries using them for this kind of subtle ‘punchline’. Overly wrought containment bounces my eyes right off the whole entry. It’s where you have to throw your hooks, and get someone interested in an item they haven’t seen described yet- or at least make it brief enough that a reader gets to the main jist of the story fast. 

But this- this is beautiful. A perfectly executed example of a totally neutralized SCP. And what makes it so, so very satisfying is that after so many SCPs able to cause so much injury and chaos and confusion this feels like revenge. Not bloody revenge. No, a far finer vengeance: the vengeance of sheer indignity. 

SCP 1589; “Roman Anthropophagus”

Along with a fascinating idea, this is one of those entries that clearly sets up a little more about the world SCP takes place in. It makes it clear- these things have been going on a long, long, long time. And not all of them come from places OUTSIDE of humanity. Maybe even... not as many of them as we think. 

SCP 252; “Humboldt Squid’

This I just love because it’s one of the entries that doesn’t over-sell the Foundation. It can get a little tiring if they’re always flawless perfect super agents. Sure they’re professionals. But sometimes, just sometimes, someones gonna make a mistake. 

And get fooled by a squid. Kinda hard to blame them. If something seems like it’s going to kill you in SCP, 9/10 times you’re probably right.... 

SCP 2188; “Life and Times of Joaquín Pablo Izquierdo de San Felipe”

It’s not that I didn’t expect to find this kind of story on the SCP Foundation site. It’s that I never expect to find this kind of story. This ranks up with... well. Stories from Mr. Ito like Blood Sickness of the White Sands Village, or Second Hand Record. Stories like Mushishi. They feel unsettling, and stick faintly to the inside of my minds eye. But they also feel... as if you were holding a piece of thread between your hands, and pulled it as tense as you could- that feeling. That tension, that fragility. 

There are stories that are frightening, but also feel like tears gathering just under your eyelids, when you’re not sure why.

What can I say about this SCP? What a strange concept; what a powerful story. Of any SCP I’ve seen this may be the most literaly and successfully *whimsical* in a very sincere way. It may be one of the only entries I’ve seen that makes me really, genuinely feel the humanity behind the SCP foundation. It’s a shock of genuine sincerity and craft.

I love a lot about the SCP foundation; And I like the dryness, the bureaucracy, the shocks between the oddball and the profane, terror and technicality. But I think having a few stories like this is alright. Every now and then. 

That’s all I have for this week, my friends. I’m hoping to resume normal production now! We’ll see how that goes, but I can promise I’ll always come back to Souichi Presents. Even Tomie. 

Because as always, Souichi Presents... will return.